


sleeptalk

by Anonymous



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: David is asleep for the first 2 fingers, David wants more, Fisting, M/M, True Love, and patrick's hands are the perfect size
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22251508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: David talks in his sleep. Patrick listens.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 19
Kudos: 227
Collections: Anonymous





	sleeptalk

He wakes up to David sleep talking, which isn't unusual. David often talks in his sleep, from random phrases (usually consisting of some combination of 'ew', ‘eat glass, Alexis’, and 'oh my god') to full-on arguments with an unseen enemy. Patrick's heard a few incredible 4 a.m. rants about pleather which he's been sorely tempted to record, but his phone is always too far away to reach. Besides, it's entertaining enough just to listen to David's raspy sleep voice admonishing anyone who dares to pair brown shoes with black dress slacks. 

What is unusual is hearing his own name said by David at some odd hour of the night. 

'Patrick,' David sighs, flexing his arms around the pillow that he always ends up cuddling when Patrick is the big spoon. 

Patrick blinks the sleep out of his eyes, fully awake. 

He watches as David shifts under their enormous comforter, pulling the pillow closer to him while pushing his ass back against Patrick's front. 'Patrick, please,' David mutters. 

Well, this is a first. 

Patrick presses back against David. "Tell me baby," he whispers, snaking an arm around David's bare chest to pull him in closer. He winds his fingers in the wiry hair on David's belly that he loves so much, and tugs ever so slightly. 

"You fill me up so good," David whispers, and Patrick's hand stills. He can't tell whether David is conscious or dreaming. 

"Tell me," Patrick whispers back, resuming his gentle pulling on David’s happy trail. 

"Fucking love your fingers in me," David's voice is breathy, the way it gets when he's about to come. "Patrick."

Patrick pulls back slightly, just enough room for his hand to slide between their bodies, index finger tracing a circle around David's asshole. He pushes in easily. David is pliant around him. They fucked a few hours ago, David riding him until his thighs were trembling.

Now, David pushes back against him, demanding more. Patrick spits, slides his middle finger in, and waits. 

After a moment, David sighs and contracts around him. 

"More," he moans, rocking against Patrick's fingers. "More, Patrick."

Ignoring his slowly filling cock, Patrick slips his ring finger in alongside the other two, his own cum from hours ago lubricating what would otherwise be a dry and painful stretch. He cautiously moves his fingers in and out, expecting David to wake up any moment in shock and demand Patrick to cease at once because they both need their beauty sleep. But David keeps rocking against Patrick's fingers and clutching his pillow to his chest even more tightly, and suddenly Patrick is so hard he can barely think. 

Keeping his fingers inside, Patrick rolls them over so that he's straddling David's ass, pressing him into the mattress. 

"David," Patrick says, voice thick with arousal. "Wake up."

"I'm awake," David's voice is muffled, his face pressed into Patrick's pillow. "Please don't stop." 

"Shit," Patrick exhales. David his hot and throbbing around his three fingers. "You want more?"

"Yes," David moans, arching his back obscenely. "Please, please,"

"Okay," Patrick murmurs, carefully extending his free hand to the bedside table and feeling for the bottle of lube. "I'm gonna give it to you, David." 

David's hips twitch into the mattress. 

He loves it when Patrick takes control. Patrick loves it too. But he knows he needs to be careful now, as he withdraws his three fingers, drizzles lube across them in thin clear squirts, and slides them back inside. 

"Mmm," David sighs happily. Patrick squeezes more lube onto every visible knuckle, and slips his pinky finger in. 

David goes momentarily tight around him, before relaxing to let him in deeper. "Yes, Patrick, yes, please," he nods emphatically into the pillow. 

Patrick watches him struggle between grinding down into the mattress and pushing back against Patrick's fingers, eyes tracing the graceful curve of his spine. David lets out a frustrated huff and Patrick can picture the look on his face, furrowed eyebrows and mouth twisted in a half grimace. 

They've gone this far before. 

Patrick knows what will happen if he holds David's waist down with his free hand and pushes in just a little deeper with the other. He knows the sound David will make when Patrick crooks his fingers slightly, and that if he holds them there for a few seconds they'll have to wash the sheets tomorrow. 

He moves his palm to the small of David's back, but David's hand shoots around and swats it away. 

"No," David groans, lifting his hips so that his cock hangs heavy in the air. The movement also causes Patrick's middle finger to brush his prostate and David whines high and breathless. 

Patrick scoots further down David’s thighs, giving him space to lift his hips up higher. He withdraws his fingers slightly and David makes a disappointed noise. 

"David." 

"Hmmm?" 

"Tell me what you want." 

There's a pause, during which the sound of Patrick's fingers flexing inside of David is amplified in the dark room. 

After a moment, David stutters, "I want more." 

Patrick knows. He'd suspected it after seeing how easily David took three fingers, and now he knows what David really wants. What David needs, based on how eagerly he's fucking himself on Patrick's hand, rocking his hips backwards with abandon and breathing heavily, the tip of his cock brushing along the sheets as he moves. 

They haven't done this before. 

Patrick didn't even know it was possible until David repeatedly assured him it was, and they'd watched some videos together in the back room of the store during an afternoon lull, and then David had blushed and admitted that it was something that he'd really really enjoyed in the past and would Patrick want to try it with him sometime? "Your hands are the perfect size," David had said, holding Patrick's palm flat against his own to demonstrate how David had almost an entire knuckle on him. “I like it, Patrick. It feels so good,” he’d said, as if the hesitance had been scribbled across Patrick’s face. It probably had. 

"Patrick?"

David's neck is craned back at an awkward angle, trying to meet Patrick's eye. His voice carries a touch of uncertainty. Patrick stares back at him, taking in David's sweaty brow, the arch of his spine, the way his shoulders rise with each ragged inhale, spreading out the strong, broad muscles of his back. It's too dark for Patrick to see the detail of David's pupils, blown wide with arousal, but he's long since memorized the sight. 

He leans forward, pressing his forehead into the space between David's shoulder blades. Kisses him there once, twice. David's skin is on fire, or maybe it's Patrick.

"Yes," he breathes into David's upper back. David clenches around his fingers and whimpers. 

Patrick straightens up and fumbles for the lube, coating his thumb down to his wrist. "Tell me if I hurt you," he says quietly. 

"You won't," David stutters, face in the pillow. He lifts his hips up higher. Patrick watches his cock sway, and reaches out to wrap his free hand around it. 

David immediately shakes his head. "Mmm, hmm, not gonna - not gonna last if you touch me now," he huffs, and Patrick withdraws his hand. "Just - please, I need, fuck, need it Patrick, please," David begs, sounding close to tears. Patrick takes a deep breath, tucks his thumb into the small space formed by the rest of his fingers like he'd seen those other men do in the videos, and pushes. 

David falls quiet, stills in his movements, and Patrick's heart stops beating. 

"You okay?" He hopes his voice is steady as David trembles around him. "Do you want me to stop?"

David inhales loudly, burying his face deeper into the mattress. "No," he breathes forcefully, pushing back against Patrick's entire hand. "No, no, no, keep going. Slowly. Please." 

He does. Patrick watches in awe as he inches deeper into David, millimeter by millimeter, until David is stretched around the widest part of Patrick's hand. His forearms are shaking on the bed as he struggles to hold his ass up. "Oh," he exhales, breathy and quiet.

"Tell me," Patrick grunts, so hard he can barely think. 

"More," David whispers brokenly. 

Patrick circles his free arm as far around David's hip as he can, curls his other hand into a fist and pushes all the way home. 

David instantly goes limp, held up between Patrick's arm around him and Patrick's fist inside of him. "Oh," he gasps, loudly. "Oh, oh god, Patrick-" 

“Is it - okay, are you okay? David, tell me -“ Patrick demands, needing to know right now, needing to feel that David likes this, that he’s not in pain - 

Then he feels wetness on the back of his hand, the hand that’s pressed flat against David’s belly and it takes his brain a second to catch up and realize that David’s cock is leaking against him. 

“Patrick,” David whimpers. “Fuck, Patrick, so good, fuck me, fist me, please,” he babbles, words trailing off into a single high-pitched whine as Patrick slowly moves his fist, not in or out, just carefully rotating it as much as he can. David is incredibly tight, squeezing around his wrist and so, so hot inside and Patrick loves him. 

“I love you,” he croaks, watching David’s hands clawing across the bed, grasping at pillows and blankets before twisting around two handfuls of sheets. “My hand is inside you, baby, look at you, taking me so well,” he continues, staring in awe at the place where David is open around him, at the sparse dark hair along the backs of his shaking thighs, at the sweaty sheen along the curve of his spine. 

“Yes!” David pants. “Yes, Patrick, yes, so fucking full with you, so full, so - so -“ 

He knows the moment one of his knuckles touches David’s prostate. David’s head drops to the bed and he cries, a raw, wounded sound ripped from the center of his chest, fingers flexing.

“Again,” he gasps. “So close, m’so close, Patrick, Patrick,”

“I’ve got you baby,” Patrick murmurs. Heart racing, he removes his free hand from David’s belly while seeking the same spot with the same knuckle. He finds it, wraps his hand around David’s cock, and presses. 

“Oh, oh,” David sobs, tensing his shoulders and coming. 

Patrick keeps his knuckle pressed against David’s prostate, and David keeps coming. Patrick strokes him through it slowly. David comes and cries and Patrick milks his cock and loves him, loves him. 

When David grows soft in his hand, Patrick guides him down to the mattress and slides his free hand around to rest on David’s hip as he starts to pull out. David barely makes a sound as Patrick’s hand slides out of him, fingertips dragging along his rim. He deflates into the mattress, boneless. 

“Are you okay?” Patrick asks, voice hoarse. He feels like he’s just run a marathon. 

“Fuck me,” comes the muffled reply. 

“Come again?” 

“Well, there’s no way that’s happening,” David says thickly, shifting over onto his back. Their eyes meet for the first time and an enormous feeling swells in Patrick’s chest. David’s hair is a bird’s nest, there’s cum all over his chest, his neck is flushed, eyes red-rimmed, and Patrick loves him. “Fuck me. Come inside me.” 

As if to demonstrate, he edges his legs apart and pulls his knees up. “Need your cum in me,” David rasps, nudging Patrick’s knee with his foot, and Patrick suddenly remembers just how hard and throbbing he is, how he’s been hard since he slid the first finger into David. 

“Yes, yes,” he hears himself say. Without breaking David’s gaze, he shuffles closer, lines himself up and pushes into him in one smooth slide. His brain immediately short-circuits into a blank expanse of pleasure. David is warm and wet and…loose.

“This is yours,” David murmurs, bringing a hand up to cradle Patrick’s head, drawing him in close and kissing him. “Want you here always,” he says softly between kisses as Patrick thrusts into him sloppily, David pliant beneath him. 

“I love being inside you,” Patrick pants, fisting one hand in David’s hair and cupping David’s face with the other. “All of me, my cock, my fingers, my fist, love being inside you,” he rambles, kissing down David’s jaw, scraping his teeth along David’s stubble. 

David catches one of Patrick’s hands in his own, intertwining them in a sticky tangle of fingers, the same hand that Patrick just fisted him with. Patrick stops kissing David’s neck to stare as he pulls Patrick’s hand up to his mouth, and Patrick slides his thumb along David’s parted lips and slips it inside past his teeth and David’s lips close around him and he sucks. 

“Oh fuck,” Patrick says, and comes hard. 

He buries himself as deeply as he can inside of David and pulls his hair and drops his face into the crook of David’s neck and inhales the smell of them.

“David, David,” he chants, nosing his face into David’s armpit. David strokes his back as Patrick’s uncoordinated thrusting slows to a stop. Neither of them moves. Patrick’s face tickles from David’s armpit hair but he’s pretty sure that he’s lost control of all of his muscles so he stays there.

Eventually David starts to squirm under him. Patrick raises himself onto his forearms and pulls out carefully, watching for any sign of discomfort, but David just looks peaceful in a thoroughly fucked out sort of way.

Once he’s fully out of David, Patrick propels himself to his feet and retrieves a washcloth from the bathroom, running the tap and wetting half of the it. He turns the water off and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. Patrick pauses; he’s sweaty, his hair is a mess, he looks dazed, high. 

Back in bed, David has shifted to his side of the mattress to make room for Patrick to lie beside him, but Patrick sits at David’s feet and nudges his legs apart. 

“What…” David lifts his head up, blinking down at where Patrick is gently wiping David down with the wet half of the towel. Patrick’s cum is already starting to leak out of him and he feels a rush of protectiveness upon seeing it. His own cum, Patrick’s cum inside of David, the man Patrick loves. It leaves him lightheaded.

“How do you feel?” He asks as he pats David down with the dry half of the towel. “Are you - did it hurt?” 

“No,” David says softly above him. “Didn’t hurt. Felt incredible. I’m fine.” 

Patrick finishes and chucks the towel somewhere towards the bathroom, vowing to pick it up in the morning. “Come back here,” David murmurs, fingers tugging in Patrick’s hair, and Patrick obeys, shimmying up the length of David’s body until they’re side by side. David immediately throws one leg around Patrick’s waist and wraps an arm around his torso so that they’re pressed entirely against each other, skin to skin, body to body. Patrick pulls the comforter over both of them.

“Hi,” David whispers, looking up at him through long, thick eyelashes. A wide, dopey smile is slowly stretching across his face, and Patrick feels his face doing something similar. 

“Hi,” Patrick replies, pressing a kiss to David’s forehead, eyebrow, nose. He inches down in David’s arms so that he can kiss the corner of David’s smile. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” David murmurs against Patrick’s mouth. 

“I’m thinking that my dick just blew a fuse,” Patrick tells him, grinning at the indignant huff that this elicits from David. 

“Please, no mechanical words in bed,” he groans, but kisses Patrick back anyway. 

“That’s mechanical code for ‘what just happened was really hot and I loved it’,” Patrick reassures him between more kisses. “David, you were amazing. You took me so well, you just…opened up, it was incredible.”

“Well, I do recall telling you that this was something I thoroughly enjoy,” David says, and Patrick can feel the smugness in his smile. “But you did so well. So careful and slow and sexy. You took such good care of me.” He kisses Patrick’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Tenderness blooms inside of him and he pulls David closer. “Always wanna take good care of you,” Patrick says. “Always want to make you feel good. Can we, um, do that again sometime?” He asks, blushing, knowing David must feel the rush of heat in his cheek. 

David chuckles, vibrations reverberating from his chest against Patrick’s. “Yes, god, yes, we will absolutely be doing that again. Hundred percent, yep.” 

“Good,” Patrick hums, and slides his tongue along David’s lips and into his mouth, wet and warm and safe. 

They fall back asleep a little later, David’s leg across Patrick’s hip, Patrick’s hand in David’s hair, warm and wrapped around each other. David’s snuffling little snores fill the room, and the sky grows light outside the window, and Patrick can’t wait to wake up.


End file.
